After Effects
by Wyndhamfan
Summary: A Common Ground tag. Sheppard seems recovered after being fed on by the Wraith, but looks are deceiving. Also, Sheppard gets in trouble in more ways than one.
1. Chapter 1

**After effects**  
By Wyndhamfan  
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to me. Isn't that sad? Oh, I mean, this story is written not for profit but for fun. Don't sue me!

**Chapter 1**

Sheppard watched as the Wraith looked up into the sky, his serpentine eyes probably on the Wraith Darts that he had not seen in years. The rear door of the puddle jumper then completely closed, and the Wraith disappeared from his view. Then, only then did he allow himself to lean tiredly against a wall.

It was over. Finally over.

"Are you all right, Colonel?" Gentle hands clasped his shoulders. He turned slightly and saw Teyla's brown eyes studying him anxiously.

"I'm good," he said, smiling broadly.

Rodney snorted. "Said the man who was wraith-sucked three times," he said.

"Rodney," Beckett chided.

How did he feel? Right now, all he could feel was the adrenaline surging through his body and hear the frantic beating of his heart. Yet, despite all that he has been through the past few hours, despite having been, as Rodney so eloquently put it, Wraith-sucked, he felt better than he remembered. Like he was on a high.

_You came. I knew you would, _he thought as he looked at his team. Rodney was sitting in one of the seats, still eyeing him with that same stunned look he had on the planet. Ronon was frowning deeply – well, deeper than he ever had before, which only meant he didn't agree with what he just did. And Carson-

"All right! Enough of this. It's bad enough that precious time was wasted when you took your detour. Move aside lads and let me have a look at him," said the Scottish doctor, expertly elbowing Ronon, Teyla and a few lingering marines aside. He went on full blown doctor mode, pushing Sheppard to one of the seats and taking out a portable Ancient medical scanner from the medical kit at his side.

Sheppard had refused medical attention when they left the planet, insisting that they concentrate on relocating the Wraith to a new planet. Beckett had only agreed to that arrangement if Sheppard allowed him to examine him immediately after that.

"Take off your jacket," Beckett ordered.

"Aw, Carson. Really, I feel fine," John protested. But he shrugged off his leather jacket anyway.

"I beg to differ, Colonel. Your blood pressure is incredibly high and your heart rate is up," he said as he read the readings on his scanner.

"Can you blame me, doc? I've got my life sucked out of me and then had it restored. Anybody would be-"

"Dead," said Beckett curtly. "I know you're strong lad. But your body has been through tremendous stress. It's a miracle that you're even walkin' around the way ye are," said Beckett, his Scottish brogue getting thicker - a sure sign that the doctor was worried.

Almost as one, his team looked anxiously at him.

Sheppard held up his hands. "Guys. I'm _fine_."

"Don't know, Sheppard. Last time I checked, you didn't have a medical degree. I prefer Carson to be the judge of that," said Rodney. Then, he looked at Beckett. "Besides, don't you think he looks younger to you? I mean, who knows about the side effects of _that_?"

"Lie down, Colonel," Beckett ordered, not-so-subtly ignoring Rodney's comments.

"What? Seriously, I'm-"

"_Now," _Beckett stressed.

Awkwardly, Sheppard lay down on the narrow seat, and eyed the equipment hammock above him with a frown.

"This is really unnecessary. I mean, look at the marines – they have to stand around. Is that fair?" he muttered.

"We're fine, sir," said one of the marines. Art Baythart, if he remembered the name right.

"Hey, you're supposed to be taking _my _side, not theirs," Sheppard responded, eyeing Baythart. The marine merely smirked and then threw him a big smile. Like he was really happy to see him. That made Sheppard uncomfortable, so he returned his eyes to the hammock.

"Shut up, Sheppard. And let Carson do his voodoo," Rodney said from somewhere to his right.

John caught Beckett rolling his eyes and smiled at that. During the time when he was enjoying Kolya's "hospitality", he didn't once allow himself to think that he'd die there in the underground dungeon. But he did flirt with the thought that he may never see the people he came to regard as friends ... as family ... again. Seeing his team together, hearing Rodney snarking away, and heck, even having Beckett fuss over him, was a glad sight.

Sheppard winced when Beckett cut his shirt open.

"That was my favourite shirt," he muttered.

"Sorry, Colonel, but there is more where it came from. I can't say the same for you."

Then, he heard Beckett gasp in shock.

"What?" he asked. No response, just Beckett prodding his chest. That made him nervous enough to lift himself up on his elbows and what he saw was -

"Nothing. Not even a scar," Beckett exclaimed, touching Sheppard's chest and pressing the skin there as if searching for dents. Teyla, Rodney and Ronon crowded around Beckett for a look-see. Even the marines behind them were craning for a look. All studied his chest intensely.

"Guys, feeling a little weird here," Sheppard said, scowling at the group.

"Oh, sorry," said the doctor, snapping out of his daze. He quickly took out a penlight and shone it into his eyes.

Sheppard sighed as he endured the probing light. He really hated those things.

When Teyla draped a blanket over him, it was the last straw. He groaned and sat up despite Beckett's loud protests.

"I'll lie down. On one condition - _no blankets_," he said to the two.

Teyla gave him one of her "Sheppard is being silly" looks but he crossed his arms defiantly. He won. A small smile crept up her lips. She could never stay mad at him for long, especially when he turned on the Sheppard charm.

"Okay, no blankets. Now lie down," said Becket in exasperation. He pushed Sheppard down and continued with his pen light thing.

"You okay, Sheppard?" Ronon rumbled after a while. The Satedan crouched beside him and studied him with an unreadable expression.

Sheppard smiled as he blinked away the after-image.

"Never better," he said.

"What you did, letting him go ... you know Dr Weir would probably be unhappy about it," said the Satedan.

That took out his smile mighty quick.

"Yeah."

"You got an answer for her?" Ronon leaned closer, his blue eyes studying his intensely.

He returned the former Runner's gaze steadily. "Nope."

"Sorry, Ronon, but the Colonel needs to rest," said Beckett, who pushed Ronon gently away.

But just then, the puddle jumper burst through the Atlantis gate.


	2. Chapter 2

**After Effects**  
By Wyndhamfan_  
Disclaimers in Chapter 1_

**Chapter 2**

Elizabeth ran to the puddle jumper bay, not knowing what to expect, not wanting to know what to expect either. The pilots only said that they managed to retrieve the Colonel and that he was "fine". Before she could press them for more details, they severed the connection only to appear through the gate moments later.

She slowed her steps when she approached the docked puddle jumper. The medical team was already there with a stretcher waiting; all gave her a grim look as she walked down the stairs hesitantly.

What did Carson say? That the chances of anyone surviving even a partial feeding was nil? The medical team was probably aware of the odds themselves. And they didn't look hopeful of the outcome. Elizabeth swallowed nervously and fixed her gaze at the closed rear doors of the jumper as she approached it, wondering just how bad Sheppard's condition was.

Then the rear doors opened.

John insisted on walking. No way in hell was he going to be supported by anyone when he could very well walk on his own. But the first thing he saw was the medical team and the gurney, which meant that his fight for independence was going to be short lived.

And then there was Elizabeth. She stood there before him with her hands clutched so tightly together that they were white from the strain. When she saw that he was the first to walk out, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. Then she smiled; her smile trembled as if she didn't have control over her features. If he had a camera he would've used it. It was a rare thing to see Elizabeth Weir's famed nerves of steel waver.

"John?" she took a few tentative steps towards him. As if she wasn't sure that he was standing there.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. Best to reassure her as quickly as he can.

At that, Weir walked quickly towards him and enveloped him in a hug.

That caught him off guard, so he didn't know what to do for a while. He just stood there stiffly, letting her hug him ... then he gently wrapped his arms around her.

_Yeah. I thought I was a goner too, _he thought.

He vaguely heard someone half-coughing, half-chuckling behind him and fought the urge to find out who the culprit was. Just as he was about to lose the battle, Elizabeth broke the hug and looked at him intensely. "But ... but we saw ... Are you okay? Are you injured?"

"No-" he began when Carson grabbed him by the elbow and shepperded him to the waiting medical team. He groaned inwardly but didn't protest when Beckett made him sit on the stretcher. Elizabeth followed them – in fact, so did the rest of his team, who watched over him like a couple of mother hens.

"No!" Rodney barked in disbelief. "Colonel, your attempts at being Mr Invicible Hero is getting stupid. He was life-sucked by a wraith, Elizabeth. _Thrice_! How _well _do you think he'll be?"

That made Elizabeth shudder anew. "Carson?" she asked.

"Physically – he is fine," he said. She exhaled in surprise.

"See?" Sheppard said, giving her a confident smile.

"_But _since we have not come across a situation where a Wraith bestows _life _on a person that has been fed off by a Wraith, I would say it warrants an overnight observation. _At least_," he said, giving the Colonel a stern glare.

"Oh, hell no," Sheppard muttered despondently.

"Understood," she nodded, giving Beckett a big smile. Sheppard scowled.

Then, she blinked. "Wait. You said the Wraith _gave _him life?" she asked in disbelief.

"Aye, couldn't believe it myself," he said as he helped Sheppard lie down on the stretcher. The medical team began rolling Sheppard to the infirmary and the team followed from behind.

Teyla spoke to Weir in a soft voice, debriefing her about what just happened. She described how they had heard Sheppard's cry and how they had pulled the Wraith away only to find John ... whole and unaged. Rodney noted, however, that she left out the part where John left the Wraith on a planet riddled with Wraith Darts.

"Never in my life have I seen such a thing" said Teyla, sounding almost awe-struck. She gave Sheppard a mystified look.

"And the Wraith? What happened to him?" Weir asked. Elizabeth was sharp – that's why she had her job – and it didn't miss her notice that Teyla had deliberately left that information out.

Ronon and Teyla exchanged a look. Rodney looked particularly uncomfortable, taking a sudden interest in an Ancient device he pulled out from his pocket.

And Weir knew that she would probably not like the answer. She nodded at the team and said, "Rest, all of you. Debrief me tomorrow," she said. Meanwhile, she'll try her best to leave John alone and not to pry the answer out of him.

**x...x...x **

He awoke with a start, startled to realise that he was sitting up in a bed ... an unfamiliar bed in a room filled with beeping machines.

His breath was coming out in gasps, and he was soaked with sweat. He ran a shaking hand through his dampened hair and blearily looked around trying to figure out where he was.

"Colonel? Colonel, how are you, son?"

It took a moment for him to realise that there was a familiar-looking man standing in front of him. The man reached out to clasp his hand – the hand that was rubbing his chest absently – and gently placed it down at his side.

"Does it hurt, Colonel? Your chest?" asked the man in concern.

Sheppard frowned. His chest? Hurt? What? Where was he?

"Disoriented," the man _tsked. _Then: "Okay, Colonel, let me have a look," said the man as he gently removed his scrubs.

John frowned as clarity returned in a sudden rush. He grasped Beckett's hand.

"I like you, Doc. But not like that," he said, fixing the Scot with a puzzled look. He managed a small smile for Beckett.

Beckett blinked a few times, then sighed heavily with relief. "Oh, thank God, Colonel. You had me worried there. Bad dream?"

Sheppard blinked heavily. "Dream? No ..." he sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "I ... can't remember ... what did you give me, Doc? I don't even remember falling asleep."

"Aye, I gave you something to help you sleep. You were wired the whole night, no thanks, in part, to the fact that your team mates refused to leave your side until I threatened them with an infirmary stay, and I thought a mild relaxant would help things," he said.

"It helped all right. And then some. I feel as if I've been asleep for _years_. How long?"

"Up to 12 hours now," answered Beckett.

Sheppard groaned. "And you didn't wake me?"

The doctor gave him a look of disbelief. "Wake you when you tried unsuccessfully for almost four hours last night to sleep? Son, you need all the sleep you can get."

The remnants of the nightmare flirted in Sheppard's head, the details vague but the terror still fresh. He swallowed convulsively and threw his blankets aside. He had to get out of here. _Now._ But when he swung his legs to the side of the bed, he felt something pull at his wrist and realised that he had an IV attached to the back of his hand.

"Colonel! What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back in bed right now!" Beckett snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Sure thing, Carson. I'll get back into bed. _My _bed."

"I knew you'd be up to your usual tricks the moment you woke up. Well, you can forget it, Colonel. There's still too much-"

"Is everything all right, Carson?" interrupted someone.

The two men turned to look at Elizabeth standing at the doorway, looking at them with amusement.

"No, everything is not all right because the Colonel here believes that he's the chief medical officer of Atlantis, not me, and insists that it's time for him to be discharged from the infirmary," Beckett said, exasperated.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and gave Sheppard an amused look.

"Hey, those were not my words. But he kinda got the gist right. 'cept for the medical officer part."

Elizabeth chuckled softly and then turned serious.

"John, stay. _No _negotiating," she said firmly when he opened his mouth to protest.

"Thank you," Beckett said gladly, which earned him a dirty look from Sheppard. Beckett then directed a nurse to take care of the Colonel while he and Elizabeth spoke quietly in his office.

**x...x...x **

Sheppard sighed when the nurse was done checking his IV and flopped bonelessly into his bed, gazing at the boring infirmary ceiling. This will be his fate for goodness how long, because here, Carson was king.

"Hmm, you look like crap."

"And hello to you, Rodney," he said without taking his eyes off the ceiling.

A book appeared in his line of vision. _War and Peace. _Sheppard took it gratefully and gave Rodney a smile.

"Figured you'd be bored to tears. I'd think you'd stock up on your library, but that's all you have in your room. _War and Peace_. Not exactly convalescence reading."

"Hey. Must've nodded off abruptly on you guys last night, cos the last thing I remembered was asking you about your date with Hartman. Don't remember the answer though."

"Oh, what you really meant to say was 'the _kiss with Carson'_," said Rodney peevishly.

He chuckled at that. He hadn't had enough fun ribbing Rodney about that. Not yet.

"It's the 2050th time you've asked me that same tired question, it's getting old, and for the record, it wasn't _me, _got that? And I'm going to have Zelenka's hide for circulating that picture in the network. _Again_."

That got him chuckling again, and Rodney scowling and lecturing him about having the maturity of a "nine-year-old still in diapers."

They spent the next few minutes in companionable silence; McKay was busy scribbling some notes while John flipped through the pages of his well-read book absently. Until Sheppard asked: "Why were you on that mission?"

Rodney looked as if he was asked whether the Earth is square. "_Why_? What kind of question is that?"

"You weren't military. And it was a military operation. You could've gotten killed."

"Well," Rodney looked flustered. "They needed me to be on standby for any technical difficulties and all that. A genius at hand for any military operation is always an asset, and for your information, I am tougher than I look. And I'm a good shot."

"Yeah, I heard you took out that rat. Good job."

"Shut up and read your book," Rodney instructed.

**x...x...x **

Elizabeth studied John's medical chart; it was meaningless to her, of course. But she hoped to at least decipher some form of information in it. There weren't that many alarming words on it, and there were lots of "normal" and "average", which were all good signs in her book.

Reluctantly, she placed the charts on Beckett's table.

"Carson, what did your tests show?"

The Scottish doctor sighed and tiredly sat at the edge of the table.

"To be honest. Nothing. And everything," he said, a heavy frown marring his usually cheerful features.

"What do you mean?" she didn't like vague answers like that, and Carson was never vague ... unless he wasn't sure. And Carson was almost always sure.

"His organs are the healthiest they've ever been and except for an elevated blood pressure – not surprising after what he's been through – he's tired, but on the whole he seems _fine_."

"But you have your doubts," she said slowly.

"Aye. As peachy as his medical condition seems to be, it seems to me that his body is working _too well. _And I've found an unidentified protein in his blood. And the fact that it bears a close resemblance to the enzyme we found in Lt Ford is a cause for concern."

Both cast a worried look at Sheppard, who was now talking to Rodney animatedly.

"Is it ... addictive?"

"No ... it doesn't seem to be. The protein doesn't seem to have the same addictive properties. For now, I'm not sure how long it'll be in the system, or ... what are the side effects on Col. Sheppard if it leaves his body."

"Are you saying that his health is temporary?"

"No, Elizabeth. What I'm saying is that we know so little about the Wraith feeding process, let alone the Wraith _life-giving _process, that we're working in the dark here. For all we know, he may walk away from this without as much as a sniffle. Logically, after the stress that his body has been through, he should be dead ... at least severely weakened. But look at him!" he threw up his hands in amazement.

"Frankly ... I don't know what I'm looking at, Elizabeth. Until we're sure, he's staying in the infirmary," he said.

She nodded. "Understood. And if the Col protests, sic the marines on him," she said briskly, a smile curling her lips.

"Aye, he'll _love _that," Beckett chuckled.

**x...x...x **

"Keeping my patient awake, Rodney?"

Sheppard looked up and saw that Elizabeth and Beckett had returned from their Very Important Conversation. He had no doubts that he was the main topic.

"No, he's doing that pretty well on his own, thanks," Rodney replied.

Their banter became background noise as John returned his attention to his book. The vague sense of unease that the nightmare left him with was still there – if not, increasing in intensity. He needed to distract himself from it ... he needed to leave this place.

Something dropped from the book.

Curious, he picked it up.

His blood froze.

It was a photograph of a man in a desert. A man whom he had tried so hard to forget. He had never taken a picture of him. Never. They didn't have the time to being where they were. Yet, here it was. The heavily tanned face stared out from the photograph, the pale green eyes staring accusingly at him. That was one thing he could never forget – how pale and lifeless they seemed.

"John? John, are you all right?"

Elizabeth's calm, husky voice drew him back, and he tore his eyes away from the photograph to meet her concerned eyes. Then, he turned accusing eyes to Rodney.

"Where did you get it?"

The physicist frowned. "Get what?"

He moved his hand to pick up the photo, but his hand met with nothing.

"What?" he whispered in confusion.

"Yeah, that was my question," Rodney said, his tone haughty. But there was an undercurrent of concern in it as well.

Someone pushed Rodney aside.

"It is not over, Sheppard," growled a deep voice. And he froze. No. It couldn't be. Not here.

He looked up slowly, and there he was. The Wraith – the one he didn't have time or thought to name – stood next to his bed. He gave him a wide smile, his sharp teeth glinting in the light.

"I need more, John Sheppard."

"No," he whispered, terror making his voice shake. Never show your terror. Never-

The Wraith roared and lunged, and John felt something stab his chest. The pain – Oh God, the pain! And for the first time since the nightmare began, he screamed-

- and found himself sitting up in the infirmary bed, looking at Carson Beckett's strained expression.

"Colonel, can you hear me now, lad?"

He found it difficult to stop shaking ... he realised that he was holding his breath and took a desperate gulp of air, coughing in the process.

"Oh God," he whispered between gasps. His hand instinctively went to his chest where the Wraith had latched onto. He felt nothing there. No blood. Not even a scar. Like it never happened. But the pain was still there, throbbing silently above his heart.

"Colonel, I want you to look at me," said Beckett. He realised then that he had drifted off in a daze, and had stared at the privacy curtains in front of him for some time. He did, tentatively.

"Are you in any pain?" the doctor asked carefully.

He closed his eyes, trying to regain his shattered composure.

"No," he answered roughly. Which was the truth. The pain was gone by then. Beckett gently pushed him back to bed, saying that it'll be good if he lay down. He was so wiped out from the nightmare that he didn't even protest – which got Beckett even more concerned and he started checking one of the many machines around him.

"Did I even wake up?" he asked, his voice still husky from sleep.

"What? Yes, you did. Elizabeth was here ... so was Rodney, remember? You fell asleep while we were talking."

Sheppard shifted his gaze to the nightstand, and there lay his battered copy of _War and Peace. _Abrubtly, he got up and snatched the book from the stand, flipping through the pages. Beckett watched his manic actions with a puzzled and anxious expression.

"Colonel?" he asked.

"No photo," Sheppard murmured.

"It was just a dream," the doctor assured softly. He gently took the book away from his grip and eased him back to bed.

"Get some sleep, Colonel," he said.

As Sheppard lay in bed, exhausted, he mustered the strength to say defiantly: "I want to return to my quarters."

Surprisingly, Beckett nodded. "We'll see how you are in the morning. Then you're free to go."

He watched Beckett leave the confines of his curtained-off area and wished for morning to arrive soon.

**x...x...x **

"_Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. _Of course," Beckett muttered to himself. The Colonel was not going to like it, but he will be having a few sessions with Kate Heightmeyer in the future.

He had been working in his office when he heard the scream. A scream that he had heard only once before – when the Iratus bug had clamped onto the Colonel's neck fiercely when they had tried to remove it with salt water. He feared the worst when the scream was cut off abrubtly, and he yelled for his nurses to ready the crash cart. But when he drew the curtains aside, he saw Sheppard sitting up, pale and unresponsive. His fears increased when the Colonel didn't respond to his calls but instead stared blankly _through _him. And when he shook the Colonel and his eyes didn't even blink, he was sure that the man was catatonic. Then, John suddenly took a long, choking breath, as if coming up for air after being suffocated.

The colonel never screamed once when the Wraith fed on him during Koyla's perverted 'live' telecast. Did not even show the terror that was only hinted in his eyes.

Beckett sighed, studying Sheppard's medical charts absently. Everything seemed in order except for the elevated blood pressure. His blood work, however, still had too many questions surrounding it to set him at ease.

When he saw the Wraith supposedly feeding on Sheppard back on that blasted planet, he had expected the worst. Sheppard could not survive a fourth feeding. They were too late.

But then Sheppard came back – hell, he literally bounced up and demanded that they not shoot the Wraith, appearing healthy, and as boisterous and confident as ever. It was just another demonstration how strong-willed John Sheppard was. And how bloody lucky the man was.

Of course, even if he was hurting or afraid, the Colonel would never let on, preferring to disguise it with a joke or three. And that made the job more difficult for Beckett, and especially Kate. No, he didn't envy the work Kate had to do.

Releasing him from the infirmary was a risky move, but a familiar environment may help Sheppard recover faster.

"Doctor Beckett?" whispered a voice.

He let out a small eep and would've dropped the medical charts if Ronon hadn't quickly caught them.

"I'm sorry to startle you, Dr Beckett," Teya apologised.

The Athosian and Satedan were dressed in their exercise clothes, which meant that they've just completed their usual sparring session at the gym. Teyla held her sparring sticks in white-knuckled hands, and Beckett suspected that they both must have heard Sheppard screaming because they were breathing harder than normal – like they had run as if a banshee was on their trail.

"Teyla, Ronon. Late night sparring, eh?" he asked distractedly.

"We heard him scream. Is he all right?" Teyla asked softly, lowering her voice so that she would not disturb Sheppard.

"Aye, lass. He's shaken, but he's fine. It was just a nightmare."

Ronon cursed – apparently in Satedan since Beckett didn't understand what he just said – and whispered harshly, "We should have killed that Wraith."

Ah, the Wraith. The Wraith that Sheppard had let go. His actions had stunned the team, but they did not question what he did because they trusted him. For some inexplicable reason, the Wraith and Sheppard had formed some kind of odd bond. A bond that Sheppard was determined to honour.And John Sheppard always tried to do the right thing and he was determined to do so no matter what they said.

"Somehow, I doubt that killing the Wraith will ease his nightmares," said Teyla sadly. "But he is all right?"

"Aye, he is. But he needs to rest," he said firmly.

Teyla and Ronon got the hint. Teyla gave him a nod and together, the two left the infirmary quietly.

Alone again, Beckett stared at the curtained off area where John lay ... and sighed, praying to the nameless gods of the Pegasus galaxy that Sheppard will have no more to deal with besides nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

**After effects**  
By Wyndhamfan_  
Disclaimers in Chapter 1 _

**Notes**: Thank you so much for the kind reviews! It did a lot to encourage me as this is my f irst SGA fic and I wasn't very confident if I got it right, especially the technology bit and the characters. McKay was a challenge to write! (Though it was fun trying to figure out ways to insult Sheppard and Carson, lol.) Knowing me (and my inability to write short fics) there will be more chapters to come. To be honest, I've always preferred to read fanfics rather than write 'em (because you guys are doing such a good job already) but once in a while, I do get itchy. Do tell me what you think about this chapter. Hope you like it:)

**Chapter 3**

Teyla tied a red ribbon around the pot of _tanno _soup Vleeka made this morning. _Tanno _soup was equivalent to what the Earth people called "chicken soup", and Vleeka had insisted that she make one for Sheppard.

In fact, Teyla had been flooded with gifts from the Mainland the past two days from concerned Athosians who heard about Sheppard's abduction. However, she suspected the generosity was more than a sign of concern.

Word had gotten back to the Athosians very quickly that Sheppard's life was restored by the Wraith. Such a thing has never happened before, and Teyla suspected that Sheppard had become some sort of supernatural figure to the Athosians. "Blessed by the Ancestors", said many. "So favoured by the Ancestors that his life was returned," said Vleeka. And more disturbingly, "He is an Ancestor in disguise and he made the Wraith return his life."

She sighed. If Colonel knew that he was currently the subject of their adoration, he would be uncomfortable. And he shouldn't be concerned about such petty matters. Especially now. So, she decided that she will not tell him about it unless absolutely.

She remembered his blood-curdling scream from last night and shivered. John hid his fear well, even when he knew he was at death's door, but it did not stop the terror from flooding out of his dreams.

A beep signaled that someone was at the door, and she called him in. Her teammates stepped in: Rodney, looking impatient, and Ronon, unreadable as usual. No, not unreadable ... she could still sense the tremor of fury in Ronon's demeanor. Despite Sheppard back safe and sound, Ronon was still angry, most probably for not being able to kill the Wraith or Kolya, or to save him from his tormentors. Ronon didn't have to tell her that he felt that he "owed Sheppard one" because the Colonel came after him in Sateda.

"All set?" Rodney asked. He tapped his watch impatiently. "One more hour till that meeting with Elizabeth."

"Yes, I am ready." She handed the pot to Ronon, who took it and stared at it as if it contained live _juta _snakes.

"Anyway, change of plans. Sheppard has just been released to his quarters," said Rodney.

"Isn't that too soon?" Teyla wondered.

"Well, if Carson thinks it's okay, it's okay. Besides, Sheppard is probably driving the man nuts. Gotta give Carson a break once in a while."

They walked to Sheppard's quarters, each to their own thoughts ... until Rodney said: "Elizabeth knows."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged looks.

"I had to tell her," he said guiltily, not meeting their eyes.

"You did nothing wrong, Dr McKay," Teyla assured him. Ronon merely grunted.

"Well, if it wasn't me, it would've been the marines. The scuttlebutt is all over Atlantis by now. Times like these, you gotta wonder why he's such an honourable ass."

"It was the wrong thing to do," Ronon said, his voice a growl.

This time, it was Teyla and Rodney who exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"But I respected him for what he did," Ronon said grudgingly. Teyla nodded while Rodney shrugged awkwardly. Yeah, they all felt that in their hearts. They just hoped that Sheppard's honourable decision won't return to bite them in the future.

They entered Sheppard's quarters just in time to see Beckett remove a blood pressure cuff from the Colonel's arm.

"Still high. I'm going to give you some medicine to lower your blood pressure. And I will be back in a few hours to examine you again. Remember, _total _rest for one week, nothing strenuous – no workouts or your usual running sessions in the morning, just light walks. Next week, we'll see about putting you back on light duty. And remember, if you have even the slightest sniffle or headache, off to the infirmary you go, got it? And don't you dare be gung ho and walk to the infirmary – just give me a call."

"Yes, Mom," Sheppard drawled. Beckett got up and left, giving the team a brief smile before exiting.

When Sheppard saw the three of them at the doorway, he beamed.

"Hey guys, here to entertain me?"

"You wish," Rodney said caustically. "And I know you have that PSP hidden somewhere in your room, and Beckett says that I've got to take it."

"What? Seriously? That's kinda cruel, don't you think? Doing it to a sick man..."

"Yes, _seriously_. Resting means not doing things that uses too much brain power. Which isn't hard for you. And don't say that you're all rested because your panda eyes are not fooling anybody," Rodney said as he poked around his cupboards.

"Did anyone tell you that you're grumpy when you show concern?"

Rodney snorted. "Concerned? You bet I am. You don't know what a nag Carson is."

**x….X…x**

The team spent half an hour in his quarters, Rodney talking on and on about some project he's working on with Zelenka while Teyla handed him a pot of ... something. Ronon merely stood in a corner, silently watching them all – as if guarding them from something. Teyla told him that it was _tanno _soup, and Sheppard vaguely recalled a furry, eyeless, snake-like creature that he was served with during one of the Athosian banquets. It tasted like a cross between chicken and shark meat. And a touch of frog.

The comforting and familiar presence of his team almost made him forget about the lingering edginess he felt, the residual effects from the two nightmares that he had. It also made him able to ignore the beginnings of a headache. The thought of contacting Beckett over such a trivial matter annoyed him, but Carson did threaten another infirmary stay if he didn't, and said that he'd know if he lied about his condition. The doctor said something about being able to monitor his vitals from the infirmary, so Sheppard supposed he wasn't kidding.

Just as Teyla insisted on pouring him a cup of _tanno _soup (much to his dismay), Elizabeth appeared.

"Starting the party without me?"

And Sheppard sensed tension in the air immediately. And although they were all very polite – too polite - the team chose Elizabeth's presence as an excuse to get ready for some meeting and left as one. He caught Teyla looking at him sympathetically before she left with the rest.

He smiled wryly. That bad, huh?

"How are you feeling today, John?" she asked, sitting beside him on the bed.

"Good. Really glad to be out of the infirmary. All that hovering from Carson was driving me crazy," he said casually.

She smiled at that, but he noticed how strained it seemed.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. Teyla's been flooded with gifts from the mainland. They're bringing it over as we speak," she said, her voice straining with the effort of sounding upbeat.

This time it was his turn to give her an awkward smile. Then, he thought that perhaps it was time to end the charade.

"You can drop the act, Elizabeth. I'm not fragile china, despite what Carson says," he said softly, then smiled ruefully. "I know you know."

Weir gave him a very tight smile bereft of humour. She clasped her hands. "Yes," she answered shortly. "And for your information. It was not an act. I _am _concerned about you."

He winced, and wondered if Beckett had told him about the nightmares he kept waking up from in his one-night stay at the infirmary.

"I take it you're not … happy?" he asked, changing the subject.

"No," she said curtly. For a while she was silent, then she gave him a sharp look. "You remember what I said about snap judgments? How often are we going to keep doing this?"

"We had an agreement," he said, keeping his tone as level as he could.

"With a Wraith? And you know how well those agreements turn out," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"I know that. But he honoured our agreement. And I did the same. For all you know, we have found an ally," he said, fixing his gaze on Weir.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked in disbelief.

No, he didn't. "Something tells me you don't," he said anyway.

"They are _Wraith_, John. They're not well known for being honourable. The dissolution of our agreement with the Hive ship recently demonstrated just as much. What makes you think that the Wraith will not inform the Hive that we still exist? Because in the end _we _are the bottom line; _we _are their ticket to a new source of food supply," she said, her voice sharp.

He knew, of course, that everything she said made sense. Hell, the same thoughts were running through his head when Ronon handed him the gun. But he couldn't pull the trigger … just couldn't.

"I couldn't kill him," he said under his breath.

"At least discuss it with me first before dropping him off the nearest Wraith planet!" she snapped.

"And what would _you _do if I brought back the Wraith?" he demanded hotly.

Elizabeth pursed her lips but kept her gaze steadily on him. She didn't answer him, but both were well aware that they had only two options when it came to Wraith prisoners: try the Wraith 'cure' on him ... or kill him. And because the Wraith cure turned out so well the last time with Michael, John knew that they would have no choice but to choose the latter option.

Frustrated, he walked towards the window and looked out to watch the waves undulating gently in the sea. Rodney said that a storm was coming. Nothing the magnitude of that storm that nearly destroyed Atlantis, thank goodness, but nothing tame either. The Athosians were being evacuated into the city as they speak.

"John. The International Oversight Advisory wants an answer for what you did," she said softly.

He stiffened at that. "Looks like it's the end of the road, huh?" he said dryly.

"No. They're not going to take you away from Atlantis," said Weir firmly.

John tore his gaze from the sea to look at Elizabeth, his expression unreadable.

"Atlantis _needs _you. But you have to work with me next time. At least allow me to protect you," she said.

And he realised then that Elizabeth was more mad at the fact that he didn't give her the chance to do just that; and meant that he could've made it _her _responsibility instead of his – for allowing that Wraith to escape.

"You know I won't let you take the blame," he muttered. The throbbing behind his eyes suddenly intensified and he closed his eyes, groaning softly.

"Are you all right?" Weir asked gently, her tone suddenly worried.

He waved her away. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that. But you know I don't believe you," she said. He could picture her crossing her arms now, looking exasperated. That made him grin.

"When's the party coming over?" he meant Richard Woolsey, of course. If the IOA is involved, Woolsey is always nearby.

She sighed. "If I have it my way, _never_."

But he was quick on picking up her body language.

"They're coming over soon, aren't they?"

The tight smile that she gave him was all the indication he needed to know that there was going to be an enquiry.

"I'm going to be there," he said firmly.

"_John_," she began.

"No buts. It was my decision, and I will be there," he said.

She studied his expression, and then she shook her head.

"You're still on medical leave. The IOA may not care, but I do. So, leave it up to me."

"Elizabeth!" he protested.

"Doctor's orders, John. Carson will have my hide if I make you do more than lie in bed. Just rest," she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and then made her way out his room.

Wearily, he sank into his bed. Being treated like an invalid when he didn't feel like one sucked.

_Rest. If only I could, _he thought with a wry laugh. Each time he closed his eyes, he worried that he would end up in a nightmare again, and he didn't want to admit how ... afraid he is of them ... to re-experience the horrible pain of your life being torn from you.

He could have killed the Wraith, like he should. But he wouldn't have been able to live with himself. It was enough to see the charred bodies of the humanized Wraith on that planet where they had kept them. After seeing the results of the carnage that he had ordered, he had sworn silently to himself: _Never again._

"Yet it is strange, Sheppard, that you chose an enemy of humankind to save rather than one of your own," said a deeply accented voice.

Startled, he whipped his head around.

The poster of Johnny Carson greeted him.

He was alone.

_Of course. How could he be here anyway? He died in Afghanistan. _

Sheppard winced when the throbbing pain in his head became sharp stabs. Groaning, he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, willing the pain to subside.

After a few moments, it did, and he removed his hands from his face.

And saw that they were smeared with blood. Slowly, he wiped a finger across his nose – it too came away bloody.

"A nose bleed," he murmured, surprised. And that was the last thing he remembered.

TBC …


	4. Chapter 4

**After Effects  
**By Wyndhamfan  
(Disclaimer in Chapter 1)

Note: _Hello guys, here's the next chapter! Do tell me if you like it. :) Thanks for all your reviews so far! It has kept me going. Oh yeah, about the Johnny Carson thing ... oh gosh, what a mistake! I'm red with embarassment. But thanks for telling me. I hope I remember to correct it ... _

_Oh yes, **neptune60 **posed an interesting question: Why would anyone have a problem with what Sheppard did? I think all Sheppard fans know that this is a highly honourable thing to do. Unfortunately, I don't think the suits will appreciate his sense of honour. After all, it is a war, and in war it's do or die. When I watched the show, I was surprised that John just let the Wraith go like that. Sure, it was the right thing to do, but I can't help but think it will bite them in the ass next time. Maybe the Wraith won't rat them out, but what of his superiors? I mean, they're a telepathic race after all, and they would KNOW that Atlantis is out there, ripe for the picking ... so I thought I could explore it in a fanfic :)_

_(I'm rushing off to the hypermart now for some weekend grocery shopping ... see ya, guys!)_

**Chapter 4**

"You certainly didn't waste your time, Mr Woosely," Weir said, her voice taut with irritation.

When Weir and Sheppard's team entered the conference room, they found Mr Woosely already waiting for them. The IOA official looked more irritated than usual, giving the team a glowering look as his hands clasped a stack of important-looking files.

"Perhaps you should rephrase the question, Dr Weir. What you should say is that the _IOA _didn't waste time," he said testily.

"Are we supposed to do this without Colonel Sheppard?" Rodney asked brusquely, ignoring Woosely.

"No, we won't Rodney," said Weir without taking her eyes away from the IOA official.

Woosely snapped a file shut impatiently. "On the contrary, Dr Weir, we will. But rest assured that I will be speaking to Col Sheppard soon."

"Col Sheppard is on medical leave," Weir said, her tone hard.

"According to his medical records, he is coherent and walking around. I don't see how a couple of questions will affect his health."

"It's out of the question," Weir said, giving him a sardonic smile.

"Believe me when I say this, Dr Weir. I take no pleasure in doing this. But here am I in the Pegasus galaxy instead of a beach in Hawaii where I'm supposed to be sipping magaritas. Here am I, again, enquiring about yet another security breach and wondering why, despite our previous conversation, no lessons were learnt," he said, his voice rising with each word.

Weir sighed heavily. "Mr Woosely," she began.

But she did not get to finish her sentence. Carson Beckett's voice interrupted her.

"Dr Weir!"

She instinctively looked up in surprise.

"Carson?" she touched her earpiece.

"I need Rodney to come to Colonel Sheppard's room immediately!"

Rodney stood up immediately. "Carson, what's wrong?" he yelled.

"Carson, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.

Teyla and Ronon, meanwhile, were frozen in their seats, their eyes on Weir.

"His blood pressure went through the roof and suddenly lowered and now his pulse is erratic. I tried hailing him, but he has not responded."

"I'm on my way, Carson!" Rodney yelled, pushing away from his chair and hitting the floor running. Ronon and Teyla followed suit.

"I'm sorry, Mr Woolsey. I have more important things to do," she said. Without a second glance at the IOA official, she marched out of the room, leaving Woolsey alone in the conference room with his jaw hanging open in surprise.

**X...x...X**

Carson was already waiting for them at Sheppard's door.

"I'm sorry to drag you out like this, Rodney. But I know you'll probably get to him faster than the maintainence people," he said.

"Of course. I wrote the security lockdown program after all – and what the hell is Sheppard doing locking his room like that?" Rodney muttered as he took apart the panel beside the door.

Cursing under his breath, Rodney adjusted the crystals in the panel and a few seconds later, the doors swished open. Carson didn't wait at all – he barged into the room. Didn't even pause when he saw Sheppard lying on his side beside his bed, out cold.

"Carson ..." Weir began, her eyes on John's still form. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood trailing down from the Colonel's nose.

"He is bleeding," Teyla said worriedly.

"It's a nose bleed," Rodney explained, his voice flat. "Carson?" he asked when he noticed the doctor feeling for a pulse.

"He's alive. But we must get him to the infirmary as soon as possible." Carson looked up, his face grim. "He is feverish. He wasn't at all this morning."

Gently, Carson turned the Colonel to his back. Just as he was turned, Sheppard groaned. Galvanised by the sound, Rodney elbowed his way through Elizabeth and Ronon to kneel beside the Colonel.

"Colonel Sheppard, can you hear me?" Beckett asked.

Sheppard frowned, then his eyes fluttered open and then slid closed just as quickly.

"Colonel?" This time, it was Teyla who voiced her concern.

With one final groan, Sheppard opened his eyes ...

**X...x...X**

He opened his eyes to see three concerned faces looking down at him.

"Colonel Sheppard. Can you hear me?" Beckett asked worriedly. He vaguely remembered being asked that question a while ago.

"Ugh. Too loud," he muttered, wincing at the pain in his pounding head.

"Well, at least we know that his hearing is intact," Rodney said sarcastically. Sheppard saw Teyla gIve the scientist a disapproving look, but he found it reassuring somehow. He grinned weakly.

"What happened?" he slurred after getting his bearings.

"What happened? You fainted, that's what!" barked Rodney.

"Didn't faint," he muttered.

"Would you prefer swooned instead?"

"Rodney," Carson chided.

His body felt achy and bone-weary. John wondered if he landed awkwardly enough to sprain something. He analysed his body carefully again. Well, at least he didn't break anything. That would've really sucked. Wearily, Sheppard rubbed a hand on his forehead. Carson dutifully took it away so that he could aim a penlight in his eyes. He sighed in resignation and just let Carson do what he had to do.

"Your blood pressure went through the roof, Colonel. And I'm concerned about the fact that you now have a temperature. I'm sorry, but it's back to the infirmary for you," he said.

Sheppard groaned, but he didn't protest because he knew it was futile when Carson was this way. He sighed again and began lifting himself up with his elbows.

"Colonel, that's the last thing you need to do," Carson chided and pushed him down gently. Sheppard resisted the gesture and lifted himself up further until he was sitting up.

"I feel _fine_. So I passed out, big deal. Besides, I-"

He paused and blinked. For a moment, he felt the world shift. It was a strange, disconcerting feeling that left him dizzy and disoriented.

"Did you feel that?" he murmmured, puzzled.

"What is it?" Teyla asked in concern.

"The world ..." he breathed. Then, without a single warning, his eyes rolled up into his head.

Weir cried out in surprise, but Carson was quick enough to catch him before he fell heavily to the floor and hit his head.

"Carson!" Rodney demanded. Carson was frantically examining Shepard, taking his pulse, lifting an eyelid and then donning his stethescope to have a listen at his heart. He then quickly took out an Ancient medical scanner. The results on the palm-sized device apparently wasn't pleasing. Carson frowned heavily.

"Pulse erratic, pressure ... very low. _Too _low. We have to get him to the medical bay. _Right now_." Immediately, Carson tapped his headset to call the medical team.

Teyla busied herself by placing a pillow beneath John's head and covering him with a blanket. Ronon, meanwhile, was quietly cursing beside her, feeling helpless because he didn't know what to do.

This time, Rodney did not hide his anxiety. "Carson, tell me it's just low blood sugar or something," he said softly.

"I can't tell you that, Rodney," Carson looked up to see Weir's anxious eyes staring back at him.

"I think what we're afraid would happen has happened ... Colonel Sheppard may be suffering from the effects of the repeated Wraith feedings," he said quietly. Weir looked away. Carson was surprised – was it guilt he saw in her eyes?

Ronon cursed again. And sat heavily at the edge of Sheppard's bed, watching the Colonel's pallid features. All Carson could do before the medical team arrived was to monitor his vital signs – which was erratic at best – and made sure he was comfortable.

**x...x...X**

Ronon shifted in his seat restlessly. It has been an hour since the medical team took Sheppard beyond the doors of a section of the infirmary where they could not cross. Undaunted, the team had taken to camping outside the doors. Teyla made herself comfortable in the stiff plastic chair by an empty infirmary bed. Weir had taken to staring at the sea from a little window while Rodney busied himself with his ever-present laptop, tapping out goodness knows what.

For the Satedan, waiting has never been this hard.

He had been gratified that Sheppard had come after him in Sateda. Even if he hadn't explicitly said so to the Colonel, both understood how each other felt about the whole thing. Words need not be said.

When Sheppard had been taken by Koyla, his mind had screamed for him to go get Sheppard back. But he was not given that chance; Weir had preferred a more covert approach when he had wanted with every fibre of his being to just charge in and get him from Koyla's filthy hands. Watching him being tortured and killed slowly had been agony for all of them, but for Ronon, it fueled a rage that was itching to be satisfied.

He couldn't do what Sheppard had done for him. This whole thing had been a frustrating experience - he couldn't save Sheppard from the pain the creature had inflicted on him nor could he punish Koyla for what he had done. And when the opportunity came to strike out at the Wraith in revenge for Sheppard - he wasn't even allowed that. Then he had watched Sheppard let the Wraith go, against all logic.

He cursed again.

"Do you mind not doing that every two seconds? Because it's really getting to me," Rodney said sharply, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

Ronon shot him a heated look, which Rodney, to his credit, smoothly ignored. "It's taking too long," Ronon growled as he got up and started to pace.

"At least we agree on one thing," Rodney sighed.

And as if the Ancestors read their minds, the doors to the surgery slid open. A tired-looking Dr Beckett stepped through, still in his scrubs. He gave them a tired smile as they rose as one from their seats.

Weir turned from the window and quickly made her way to Carson's side.

"Carson?" she asked anxiously.

"He's resting. But before you all move, I'd prefer that all of you spend only five minutes with him. He needs all the rest he can have," he said sternly.

Impatiently, Rodney just muttered an affirmative and entered the room with Teyla and Ronon. Weir, however, stayed behind with Carson.

"I have to be frank with you, Elizabeth. Colonel Sheppard is a mess right now," Beckett said gravely. "I know it's not the news you want to hear-"

"No. No, but this is what it is, isn't it? But he will get better?" she asked hopefully.

Becket sighed. "I wish I can say 'yes', Elizabeth. The unidentified protein that I spoke about before? It has completely disappeared from his system. I think this is the reason why the Colonel is now exhibiting symptoms. I suspect that the protein is a stimulant of sorts that helped his organs function at peak capacity. Once it was gone, his system did not have the artificial crutch to keep it going any more. Basically, his body needs to remember how to function without that stimulant once more. The fluctuations in his vital readings are just symptoms of his body trying to adjust," he said.

But Weir could see that Beckett was still concerned. "There's something you're not telling me."

He sighed again. "There is another disturbing development, Elizabeth. His dopamine levels are fluctuating as well. And I have not even started telling you about the strange developments in his brain chemistry-"

"Dopamine ... are you saying that his mental health is affected too?"

"I'm afraid so ... he has not manifested any symptoms yet. But ... but it will be any moment now."

Weir looked away, and tried to digest all this.

"But it is temporary, right?" she asked hopefully.

"Aye. I believe so. As long as we keep him comfortable and rested, I believe he will pull through. But enough about the Colonel for now. How are you doing, lass? You look more than a little run down."

Weir took a shuddering breath and gave Carson a wry grin. But the grin wavered and turned into a grimace.

"I think I may have something to do with his collapse," she said, her voice brittle.

Beckett frowned. "I don't see how that's possible, Elizabeth."

" I ... spoke to him about the IOA investigation," she said guiltily. "It wasn't what you call a ... level discussion. We were both a little ... angry. That didn't do any favours for his blood pressure, did it?"

Carson tsked. "But he would've found out about it some other way. Being honest with him was probably better than putting him through the stress of wondering what's happening. There was no way you could've predicted his collapse."

She nodded, but appeared unconvinced.

"Elizabeth. You've got enough to worry about already. Worrying about what ifs is the last thing you need to do at a time like this. Besides, knowing the Colonel, he'll probably give you one for blamin' yourself." He gave her a smile.

"Carson?"

The two turned to see Rodney looking worriedly at them. The scientist was clasping his hands together so tightly that his knuckls were white.

Weir frowned immediately. "Rodney, what is it?"

"I'ts Sheppard. He just asked me why Peter Grodin was staring at him from the bed next to his."

Weir felt her blood turn cold.

_So ... it has started, _she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **In chapter one

**Notes**: You must be thinking: Where were you? Good question! I have to say, of all people to write fanfic, I think I'm one of the people that shouldn't, because not only do I write for a living (which means at the end of the day, the last thing I want to do is write some more), I travel a lot too. So that leaves me with barely any free time. And I'm so sorry for keeping you guys waiting! Really I am Especially to mtee1958 who wrote to me asking me to continue (and being the slacker that I am, I forgot to reply her e-mail. -v-")

Rest assured, there's an ending to this story. Why? Cos I wrote it already. I'm a little weird – I write the ending and the beginning then the middle parts. :P

But I can't express how grateful I am for hanging around. I just have three to four more chapters to go before the end. I hope you will remain patient with me a little while longer.

**After Effects **(Chapter 5)

By Wyndhamfan

_A few minutes ago..._

"So. I guess sitting up wasn't a good idea," Sheppard murmured.

"No, it probably wasn't," said Teyla. She gave him a smile that was tempered with concern.

To her credit, the Athosian still woman managed to sound perfectly normal, as if Sheppard merely woke up from a nap instead of lying in an infirmary bed, sick from some unknown side effect of a Wraith feeding.

Rodney, however, wasn't doing such a good job at hiding his dismay. He couldn't believe that just a few hours ago, Sheppard had looked _normal_. If ignoring the fact that he had nearly died and was actively pretending that all was right in the world was normal, that is. However, there was no denying now that there was something wrong.

All colour had leeched out of John Sheppard's face. Now, he lay in the infirmary bed bonelessly – as if he hadn't the energy to even lie down comfortably. A fine film of sweat covered his face; and he was breathing hard, as if he was running a mile a minute.

But Sheppard being Sheppard, was as usual, pretending that nothing was wrong. It drove Rodney crazy.

"For God's sakes, Colonel. You don't have to pretend that everything's okay for our sakes. We're big boys and girls now!" he wanted to scream.

Instead, he said: "That'll teach you that being Mr Invicible Hero is not such a great idea." It was a lame joke, but that was all he could manage to dredge up from his numb mind. Jokes are what Sheppard needs now. That's how he copes, right? McKay asked himself.

Sheppard managed a weak scowl. "At least I wasn't called Captain Untouchable."

Ronon shot Rodney a puzzled look.

"It's a long story. And it's a _boring _story," Rodney snapped.

Sheppard cast a furtive glance to his right – to an empty infirmary bed. Rodney caught the look and frowned. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Sheppard looked at him then shook his head. "Nothing."

"I don't think it's nothing. I know that worried look from anywhere," Rodney said, annoyed.

Sheppard frowned. Then looked to his right again. "Shut up," he hissed.

Well, that was gratitude for you, Rodney thought darkly. "I know you're not in a good mood, Colonel, but that language was uncalled for."

Sheppard frowned at him. "I wasn't talking to you, Rodney," he said, sounding annoyed.

"Oh? You're suddenly holding conversations with beds now?" Rodney didn't like the unsettling feeling he was getting at the pit of his stomach.

"Beds? Are you blind?" Sheppard remarked.

Ronon and Teyla gave him worried looks.

"What?" Sheppard asked defensively. Then he looked at the bed on his right again. "I said, shut up! I can't hear them with you yacking your head off!"

"Colonel ... who are you speaking to?" Teyla asked gently. Rodney couldn't have asked if he wanted to, because his mouth had turned dry. It was very obvious now that Sheppard was mad at the empty infirmary bed. It was wrong on too many levels.

Sheppard gave her a serious look. "Peter Grodin," he said irritably. "He's staring at me. And I'm getting sick and tired of it," he said darkly.

**x...X...x**

They watched as Carson examined Sheppard, who by then, was half-asleep and not entirely lucid.

"Ask him to shut up," the Colonel told Carson as the doctor placed a nasal cannula on him. Sheppard tried to swipe Carson's hand away irritably.

"Colonel, I want you to concentrate. You're on Atlantis, in the infirmary-"

"I know all that," he growled. "Why won't you listen to me? Grodin is making a lot of noise. And he's asking me rude questions."

"Questions? What questions?" Rodney asked, sounding numb.

"Rodney. The last thing we need to do is feed his psychosis," Carson whispered harshly. He turned back to Sheppard.

"Colonel, I'm going to give you something that will help you sleep now."

Sheppard nodded and waved a hand, as if trying to dismiss Carson. "Whatever," he slurred. Then the drug took effect, and he was asleep.

"Was it me, or did his personality morph into that of a 5-year-old?" Rodney whispered.

"Personality shifts are not unusual when a person has a ... psychotic episode," Carson answered, steering all of them away from Sheppard's bed.

"He totally believed Grodin was there. Like it never occurred to him that he's dead," Rodney remarked.

"Grodin?" Ronon asked.

"He was a scientist ... he was killed by the Wraith when they tried to invade Atlantis two years ago," Teyla said simply.

"It's as if all memory of that event just wasn't there. Are we dealing with amnesia too?"

"Rodney, when a person suffers from delusions-"Carson began.

"Are you saying he is insane?" Ronon demanded sharply. Teyla gave Carson a look of alarm.

"No!" Rodney and Carson answered as one.

Sighing, Carson raised both hands placatingly.

"Look, everyone, I believe that this is temporary. All this is happening because his brain chemistry is fluctuating like the rest of his body," said Carson.

"Can you give him ... something?" Teyla asked, uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Of course, but all I can do is ease his mood fluctuations and give him something that will help him sleep better. All we can do now is to wait."

"All right, Carson, please keep me posted about his condition," Weir said quietly. Absorbed in their concern over Sheppard, they forgot for a moment that Weir was still there, silently watching over Sheppard.

"Of course, Dr Weir. And about Mr Woolsey-"

"Is not even a problem,"Weir said, giving him a smile. But her eyes were hard with determination.

"Good. I don't have any bloody time to play politics with the IOA now. Excuse me," with that Carson left to be at Sheppard's side.

"Neither do I," Weir said under her breath.

The four of them watch Carson work at Sheppard's bedside silently, knowing that it won't be long when one of his nurses would appear and chase them out.

"Sheppard, you never do anything the easy way," Rodney sighed and crossed his arms.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes: **Um, I know, it's been so long. Sigh, I can't seem to be able to sit down in one place and write these days. ; Anyway, thanks for being patient – as always. Here's the latest chapter. Three more chapters to gooooo!

**Chapter 6**

Sheppard's body was now reeling from the delayed shock of being fed on the wraith four times. His organs were a mess – on day two of his stay in the infirmary, Sheppard was close to kidney failure. Luckily, it didn't go down that road. His immune system was also shot - he had caught an infection that gave him a fever that further addled his already chaotic brain.

It was difficult to watch Sheppard the way he was now, heavily drugged and sweating profusely, awake only when Carson performed one of his intrusive tests. And if he was awake, he wasn't necessarily John Sheppard. At times his personality was so out there that Rodney could've sworn he was speaking to a different person – like the time when Sheppard turned petulant and demanded that he hand him his laptop so that he could play Pacman. It would've funny if not for the fact that Sheppard had then proceeded to knock down all the bottles of medicines and a glass of water off the bedside table in one angry swipe when McKay hesitated.

Between the bouts of delirium intersped with psychosis, Rodney was glad that Sheppard was unconscious most of the time.

They all took turns to be at his side, but he was often asleep when they were there, or if they were unlucky, they were there when Sheppard had one of his psychotic episodes. Once, Ronon had to help the nurses hold the Colonel down as he fought them with surprising strength, trying all his might to get off the bed all the while yelling that they were Genii.

"Carson. This is getting irritating. There must be some improvement after days of this!" he said.

Carson looked up to the heavens as if pleading strength from a deity, and then smiled tightly at Rodney.

"Believe me, Rodney. It's my most fervent wish to see him get through this."

"Are you sure you're giving him the right drugs so that he won't stay crazy permanently?" Rodney demanded.

"I'm _here_, you know," Sheppard growled, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Rodney and Carson looked down in surprise to see Sheppard finally awake after a 10-hour-long feverish stupor.

"Oh, good. I thought you were still in la-la land," Rodney said. "You do know you are on Atlantis, right?" he asked tentatively.

"Colonel? How do you feel?" Carson asked, ignoring Rodney's question.

"Like I'm being pumped full of drugs I can't even pronounce," he said sourly.

The doctor grinned at that, but quickly turned serious. "Sorry about that, Colonel, but it's necessary."

"I'm not crazy," he muttered, as if he was trying to convince them.

"No, that you're not," Carson reassured him.

"Even if I did hallucinate once in a while," John insisted.

_And then some_, thought Rodney, remembering how, four days ago, when the Colonel yanked out almost all the wires and tubes he was connected to and yelled at poor Nurse Marion, calling her a Taliban soldier. He then grabbed one of the IV needles he had yanked out and waved it clumsily at the nurse before collapsing in a dead faint a moment later. After that episode, Sheppard slept for 30 hours, worn out and battling a fever so high that Carson thought of ordering an ice bath. Thank God his temperature fell a little – he was still suffering from a high fever, but it wasn't dangerously high like before.

"It _is _temporary, right?" John croaked; Rodney could hear the tremor of fear beneath the calm voice.

"Yes," Carson answered confidently. He gently placed the stethoscope on Sheppard's chest and listened to the Colonel's breathing.

Sheppard blinked away sweat from his eyes and ponderously lifted a hand with two IV drips attached to it, to wipe his forehead.

A cloth appeared out of nowhere, and Rodney realised that a nurse – Marion, in fact – was dabbing Sheppard's forehead. The Colonel sighed in relief and sank into his bed. Slowly, his eyes closed and he was still for so long that they thought that he had fallen asleep, but he suddenly asked softly: "How long?"

"How long have you been in the ... infirmary?" Carson asked tentatively.

Sheppard nodded weakly, his eyes still closed.

"It's been five days," Carson replied.

Wearily, Sheppard opened his eyes to mere slits to look at the doctor.

"Tell me, doc ... and I want the truth. Is this permanent?" he asked again.

"I don't believe so. There seems to be an indication that your body is returning to normal. Your kidneys , for example, are showing improved function. And you are lucid more often now. Good signs, all of them."

"Then, why don't I believe you?" he muttered. He sighed and then seem to sink further into the bed. He stared at the ceiling blearily and his eyes went blank.

"Colonel?" Rodney asked softly.

At first, he didn't reply. His stare remained blank for so long that Rodney was convinced that he had gone into one of his "episodes". Suddenly, Sheppard muttered: "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

Carson reacted by gently steering Rodney away from the bed.

"Are we going to add Prozac to the list of meds he's having?" Rodney whispered under his breath.

When Carson didn't answer that, his jaw dropped open. "He's already having it, isn't he?" he exclaimed.

"Aye, and I'll appreciate it if you keep it to yourself, thanks. The last thing he needs is for watercooler talk centering around his depression. That's not what he needs now."

Sheppard opened an eye, then another, when he heard their voices fade away. When he realised that he was finally alone, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Alone at last, he finally allowed himself to feel afraid. He stared at the ceiling,wondering how long he'd stay lucid this time. The funny thing about loosing your mind is that you're aware that something is wrong when you come out of it, but when you're deep in the midst of a crazy episode, you think that your lucid moments were your crazy ones. It's not a fun place to be.

"Indeed, Sheppard. This is not the place for you to be."

_Oh God. So soon?_

"You're not there, you know. So I don't have to turn my head to acknowledge you," he said to the ceiling. Which, he thinks, looks like what a crazy person would do anyway.

Silence, then. "You disappoint me, Sheppard."

He knew he shouldn't give the figment of his overheated and not-so-healthy imagination credit, but despite himself he was curious to know what exactly disappointed his delusion so much.

"Really?"

"I never thought you'd give in to your captors so easily."

He turned away and closed his eyes. _I am on Atlantis. I'm nowhere near Earth, let alone some dessert. And this is 2006. Not-_

"Sheppard!"

The voice was right next to his ear. He bolted to a sitting position and twisted around ... and was face to face with his hallucination ... the man that was tailing him all the while.

"Say my name, Sheppard," said the apparition.

Sheppard took it all in – the man's grime-encrusted face, the brown eyes that were so intense they seem to suck you in ... the grim line of his cracked lips ...

"You're not real," he said shakily.

The man slowly reached out and clasped his shoulders. Sheppard flinched when he felt the dig of the man's fingers against his arms.

"Does this not feel real to you, Sheppard? Do you need more proof? Perhaps I shall spit on you instead to prove my existence to you."

"I never did get your sense of humour," he said dryly.

"So, where are you now, Sheppard?"

Somewhere at the back of his mind, a little voice was begging him not to listen to the man. But this man was real, wasn't he? He felt solid, warm ...

"A..." he began.

"Say it, Sheppard. Or _they _win."

"They?" he whispered huskily.

"Can you not remember, American? They beat you. Drugged you. Pretended to be your friends. But they're not, are they, Sheppard?"

He looked away uncertainly.

The man grabbed his chin and forced him to stare into his dark ones. "They are deceiving you. Or have they deceived you already? Trust me, American. I will leave you here to rot if you continue to be this way!"

With a snort of derision, the man turned away. And suddenly, it all became clear. The pristine walls of the infirmary faded to the grimy, dank walls of the cave. And he was horrified at how easily he was duped. It was not real. None of it was ...

"Wait!" the cry left his throat before he could stop it.

The man turned, and frowned. "Where are you, Sheppard?" he demanded.

"A ... Afghanistan. The warlord. He caught me two days ago. Killed everyone in my unit. I don't understand why I'm here," he whispered, confused.

"You don't need to know, Sheppard. We are running out of time. We must leave. _Now_." With that, the man began to walk away.

Quickly, he began removing the needles attached to his arms. Of course. Why didn't he realise it sooner? He was being drugged – the evidence was all there. He was so stupid. _Must not let them get to me again._

As his bare feet touched the floor, he heard someone say,

"Colonel? Where the hell are you going?!"

He froze, then turned slowly to look at the newcomer suspiciously.

Rodney McKay frowned. "What are you doing out of bed? And did you yank out your IV?" he demanded. Then, his eyes widened. "Um. Why are you looking at me like that?"

**x...X...x**

Ronon knew from long, torturous experience that it only took a few careless seconds for things to go wrong very badly, very quickly. He was thinking that when he entered the infirmary to find Rodney McKay sprawled on the floor beside Sheppard's now-empty bed.

_I only left for a minute, _he thought, annoyed.

He shook Rodney roughly, which elicited a grunt from the physicist.

"Leave me alone. _Dr Who _doesn't come on in another hour..." he mumbled.

"Rodney!" he roared.

That did the trick. The scientist sat up quickly, his eyes wide.

"Shit! Sheppard! He is out of bed! He ..." Rodney's hand crept up to the beginnings of a black eye on his face. "...ow ... he hit me. He hit me!" he cried out in disbelief.

"Where did he go?" Ronon demanded.

"Didn't you hear me say, 'He hit me?'" Rodney snapped.

"We must find him. Walking around in his condition-" With that, Ronon ran out of the room.

"That Neanderthal ... he could've at least waited for me to get up-" With a sigh, Rodney moved his aching body to a communication device next to Sheppard's panel. The communicator beeped when he activated it.

"Elizabeth? I think we have a problem," he said.

TBC


End file.
